


Out of Breath

by Sandrine Shaw (Sandrine)



Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: Alien Sex, Drabble, Episode Tag, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-11-07
Updated: 2008-11-07
Packaged: 2017-10-31 06:58:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 570
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/341226
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sandrine/pseuds/Sandrine%20Shaw
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><i>The stab of arousal John feels when the fingers on the side of his neck close a little further blindsides him, hitting him low in the pit of his stomach like a punch that briefly leaves him breathless.</i> (Episode tag to 5x11 The Lost Tribe. The fall-out after the Attero device.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Out of Breath

For a scientist, Todd is a pretty damn good fighter. John wishes he wouldn't be making this particular experience first-hand, but it seems like, after the mess with the Attero device, both the fragile alliance and the tentative beginnings of trust between them are null and void, and it's kill or be killed instead of awkward negotiations and uncomfortable meetings. In a way, John is almost glad – except that he hates that this happened because of one damn misunderstanding, and that he hates even more that he's currently on the wrong side of the kill or be killed.

Todd takes him by the throat and pushes him backwards until his body roughly connects with stone. 

"Listen, I—" John begins, but Todd's grip tightens enough to make his eyes start to water, and his attempts at reasoning with their erstwhile ally die in his throat. John can't read the expression on the Wraith's face or the yellow reptile eyes, but if his actions are anything to go by, he's pretty pissed.

The stab of arousal John feels when the fingers on the side of his neck close a little further blindsides him, hitting him low in the pit of his stomach like a punch that briefly leaves him breathless. It's not really arousal, he tells himself; it can't be because this is _Todd_ , not Larrin, who's manhandling him: a Wraith, and male, and just about two seconds away from putting that hand on his chest and sucking the life out of him. It's not arousal, just adrenaline running high, fight or flight and fear of imminent death.

"Come on, do it then," John grinds out, taunting, between clenched teeth. The wall is digging uncomfortably in his back and the hand around his throat is cutting off his air supply.

"You don't even know what it is you're asking for," Todd hisses, dangerously low, and before John has the time to contemplate the odd threat, Todd moves in.

He expects the sting of the feeding hand, the agony of having his life ripped from him bit by bit, but not the hard press of the Wraith's mouth against his. He can't stop his lips from opening up under Todd's, and then he's _being kissed_ , thoroughly and roughly and dirtily. 

As Todd's tongue slides against his own, the hand around his throat tightens even more, and he can't tell which of the both it is that makes him see stars. He barely consciously notices when a leather-clad thigh pushes his legs apart, but his body pays attention even when his mind isn't, jerking forward, seeking friction, spreading his legs a little further in invitation, pushing against Todd.

He comes hard and fast, almost blacking out for a moment until the pressure around his throat finally eases and Todd lets him go. John's knees buckle, and he sways a little. He keeps on his feet by sheer force of will, taking in huge gulps of air that stings all the way down to his lungs.

"Does that mean we're friends again?" he asks, when he can speak again. The flippancy is all fake, and he knows the edge in his voice betrays just how shaken he is by what just happened.

Todd chuckles. "I would not exactly call it that."

"I will see you around, John Sheppard," he says as he turns to go, and John allows himself to boneless sink against the wall.


End file.
